Mary was already waiting for me near the academy's exit, right where we had agreed to meet. Specifically, next to the academy's carriages, which we're allowed to use for free to go to Solstar, the nearby city. They don't run at fixed hours—rather, there are usually two or three available throughout the day, outside of class hours.

We board one, and since it's a Saturday morning, we're not the only ones planning to spend some time in the city. We end up sharing the ride with three other students, who excitedly tell us about a new pastry shop that just opened and apparently serves the most delicious sweets. I tell Mary that after choosing a dress, we absolutely have to stop by.

And, really, I should've kept my mouth shut, because bringing up the dress leads to talk about the ball. The three girls, all first-years like us, immediately start asking who we're going with.

To their credit, when they find out Mary is going with Theodore, I have to say they don't seem to mind that a commoner is going on a date with a marquis's son. Instead, they sigh dreamily and tell her how lucky she is. As for me, since I'm going with my fiancé, the heir to a barony, they don't pay me much attention. Mary is the real center of attention. Apparently, they're still waiting for some young man to invite them.

My head, already screaming for help from the endless chatter of the four of them (yes, Mary included), starts to ache a little less when we finally arrive. We say our goodbyes, and I can finally surround myself with the city's noises. Sure, there are people in the streets, but it's nothing compared to being crammed inside a small, enclosed carriage with four girls who wouldn't stop talking and squealing with excitement.

Exhausting.

"You don't seem very excited about the ball," Mary comments, surprised, as we make our way toward the central streets where the shops are.

"To be honest, I'm not."

"But what about your fiancé? From what I've heard, you've known him since you were little. It must be so romantic to go to your first ball with him."

"We haven't seen each other that much, and when we did, it was out of obligation."

"Oh, I see. I guess being a noble isn't as glamorous as it sounds. In my family, my parents and their siblings all married for love. I'm really sorry, Bianca," she says, slowing her pace until she almost stops, then placing a hand on my arm.

"Don't worry. I think I can break off the engagement pretty easily," I say with a wink.

Now we've completely stopped. Fortunately, the street is wide enough that other pedestrians can pass by without trouble. We don't stand out much—it's pretty common for academy students to visit the city on weekends.

Well, I'm still in my uniform. Mary isn't. She's wearing a simple white-and-yellow dress that suits her well. But for me, the academy uniform—with its skirt and blazer-style jacket—is the closest thing to 21st-century Earth fashion I'm going to find in this world, so I don't mind wearing it even on weekends when it's not mandatory. Honestly, unless I'm heading to the goblin village, the forest, or a dungeon, I don't really wear anything else.

Oh, well, except for the other day when I went to see the king and queen…

Which reminds me of Vincent.

Which brings me back to this girl who just asked if I have a better match to introduce to my parents. She looks at me with those kind, expectant eyes, waiting for my answer.

Yeah, sure, your Vincent, I think sarcastically. Yeah, no way I'm telling her that.

Even if it's true.

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No, no, I don't want to marry him. But if I had to get married, it wouldn't be such a bad option…

I feel my cheeks burning, and Mary gives me a knowing smile.

"Oh, you like someone. You have to tell me."

"Uh… I don't know if I like him. People are just trying to set me up with him."

"Who? His parents? Oh."

That's the moment Mary's expression changes.

Oh, please, don't let this be the moment where I, as her supposed friend, break her heart.

"Is that why they summoned you to the palace the other day?" she asks, her voice subdued.

"No, Mary, no. I don't want to steal Vincent from you," I say, with a bit more force and volume than I intended.

Some kids playing in a nearby plaza turn to look at us. A couple of passersby do, too.

Crap.

"Look, you're testing the waters with them—Theodore, Vincent, and Alistair."

"What are you saying about Alistair?" she blushes. "Okay, the other day, you and I talked about how I found him interesting, but the truth is, he hasn't made any moves."

No, but he's one of your routes, I think. Judging by your reaction, you really like him, and I suspect he might like you too.

"Sorry, it's just that they're always together. I see them as similar in a way. I must have gotten confused, thinking he had asked you out at some point."

"No, not at all. And, Bianca, you say the strangest things. It's obvious they're completely different. The only thing they have in common is that they're all good people."

"Well, how about we talk about this later—over those sweets? If we don't hurry, we're going to be late."

We have an appointment with the owner of one of the dress shops serving nobility. They have their own seamstresses, one of whom is quite renowned, and they're going to show us various models and take our measurements to adjust the dress we choose. With only about fifteen days left before the ball, I doubt there's enough time to have one made from scratch. Not that we even asked when we booked the appointment.

"But tell me first… is there something going on between you and Vincent? I'm sorry, Bianca. I shouldn't feel disappointed—it's selfish of me. You two do make a great pair. It's just that you were the one who encouraged me to go out with both of them, and I… I didn't think you were interested."

"There's nothing going on, and I'm not interested. I'll explain later. Come on."

She gives me a hesitant smile but resumes walking.

Ugh, why is this getting so complicated? I don't want to take a potential fiancé away from Mary—that's what Sol is for. Yeah, because Judith and Karina barely interact with him at all.

We arrive at the shop, where the owner—a middle-aged woman—welcomes us. Her boutique is spacious and elegantly decorated—it's clear that her main clientele consists of academy students. They offer us tea and lead us into a large fitting room with full-length mirrors on two walls and a wooden platform strategically placed between them. I imagine it's where you try on dresses, allowing you to see how they fit from the front, sides, and back.

"Miss L'Crom, your parents have instructed me to inform you that the cost of your dress and any accessories you choose will be charged to their account. They want you not to spare any expenses."

With the money from the dungeon, it hadn't even occurred to me to ask Bianca's parents for anything. My personal allowance doesn't even come close to covering a dress like this. I suppose this is the norm—students from noble families come in, and the shop simply charges their parents. Since this is the only store in town that specializes in these kinds of dresses, they must be used to students shopping without their families.

For a moment, I freeze. That I don't spare any expenses? Are the L'Crom counts assuming that instead of going with Marco, I'll be attending the ball with the prince?

There is an air magic messenger mage in this city. Could Berta have already sent them a message?

No… I hope not. But I know they're going to pressure me into changing fiancés.

"And you, Miss Mary?" the shopkeeper asks with a polite nod.

"I'll be paying for mine in coin."

Without further ado, the owner calls her assistants, and they start bringing out dresses.

We sit comfortably, sipping tea and nibbling on sweets as we browse through the options. Honestly, my past self from Earth would find this surreal. Back there, the only clothes I could afford came from fast fashion chains—definitely nothing designer, let alone custom-made by a seamstress. Is this how famous actresses feel when picking out their gowns for the Goya Awards? No clue.

But I decide not to get overwhelmed by all the attention and just enjoy it. Because the dresses… oh my gosh, the dresses. They look like something straight out of a fairy tale. They're absolutely stunning.

Mary picks out a couple to try on, but I choose only one.

It's red—a deep, dark red, like the petals of a blood rose at midnight. Delicate lace adorns it, both in black and white. The neckline is strapless, and layers of silk cascade down with asymmetrical cuts that I just know will move with me when I wear it, as if they're part fabric, part wind. I can already picture myself walking and dancing in it…

Mary pulls me out of my daydream with a laugh and a gentle nudge on my arm.

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